I Wouldn't Mind
by lupuscarmen13
Summary: Response for the HPFC challenge "I Kissed A Girl". Madame RosmertaxHooch. A series of related one-shots. Freya Rosmerta knew that returning to Hogesmeade would be difficult. However, what she wasn't expecting was a headstrong blonde witch to come flying into her life and steal her heart. In a world that seems to be filled with war and heartbreak, can Freya and Rolanda find love?


**I Wouldn't Mind**

**-a Harry Potter fanfiction-**

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_Written for the 'I Kissed A Girl' Completion. Yes, that means femmeslash. Now, before you click off out of utter disgust and confusion, this is rated 'T'. There is no smut. This is not a PVP. Okay, now you can go! :D _

_To avoid the cliché "don't like, don't read"...pretend I said it. :P_

_Pairings: Rolanda Hooch x Madame Rosmerta_

_Time Period: Riddle-Next Gen._

_Type: A series of related one shots that all add up to an overreaching plot. _

_Chapter Song: Another Empty Bottle- Katy McAllister_

_Warnings/Triggers:_

_Well, obviously femmeslash. There is also mentions and scenarios of depression, alcoholism, suicide, drinking, sexual harassment, attempted sexual assault, war, torture, and child abuse._

_...and I believe that's it! Enjoy! _

_Read & Review!_

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**Chapter One- Another Empty Bottle**

_**December 16th, 1936**_

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She should have assumed that it would be difficult, Freya Rosmerta thought to herself as she walked down the cobblestone path of Hogsmeade. As she passed the cozy snow-covered shops and homes, she couldn't help but remember the childhood she had spent there, days alternating between running through the village and days spent in a the warm, apple-scented inn that her parents had inherited.

All of that, of course, had come crashing to a stop when Freya and her fraternal twin sister Diana had turned eleven. The pair, born in late July, 1909, had been raised around magic. Both calm and even-tempered, there had never been much reason for either sister to use accidental magic. Whenever Freya looked back on her past, she always saw what neither herself nor her parents had never realized.

In the few bouts of accidental magic that had occurred in their childhood, only Freya had ever used it.

For, as the twins had found out, Diana was a squib.

Magic-less and powerless in a village of only wizards and witches, Diana had grown more and more bitter and depressed, despite their parent's awkward attempts to comfort her. At Hogwarts, Freya had been teased more than once about her squib sister, some even going as far to say that she belonged in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, rather than her house of green and silver.

As the twins grew older, their inseparable bond was corroded more and more over time until neither sister spoke. Diana, who had attended a Scottish private academy after Christmas- it had taken her a mere four months to learn almost all she needed for secondary school- began to stay at her boarding school during the Christmas and Easter breaks. And when she was home for the summer, rather than helping Freya and their parents in the inn, she would sneak out of the village or hide away in strange nooks and crannies, only scurrying out for alcohol, food and sleep. Her long flaxen hair, in contrast to Freya's golden curls, straightened and paled, whether from the sun or from natural causes, Freya was unsure. Also in contrast, while Freya was curvy and seen as attractive, Diana was unnaturally thin and fairly flat chested. While Freya's skin was sunkissed, Diana's was dry and dull.

Over time, tensions built up and Diana seemed to get sadder and sadder until one day...she was gone.

Freya was shocked out of her morose thoughts as a large snowflake landed on her nose. Blinking, heart heavy, she looked up at the dark grey clouds that stretched across the sky. Snow was lazily twisting down like falling stars, creating a gorgeous silvery tapestry of ice fragments.

Shaking her head, the nearly thirty year old witch continued on her way, her nose beginning to go numb. She sneezed, bringing her gloved hands up to her face. Blinking, she glanced around her.

There were few out on the streets, Freya noticed, raising a hand in greeting to the odd pedestrian that crossed her path. The streets were lit by the festive holiday candles, creating a warm rusty glow that bounced off the damp cobblestone. Street windows, many already decorated with deep green wreaths and frosted glass for Christmas and Yuletide, were lit with brighter candles and glowing orbs, spilling out of the decorated glass and joining the calmly flickering orange shining.

It wasn't long until Freya had reached the inn, _her_ inn. The Three Broomsticks.

Large, with pointed triangular windows and entryway, seeing the inn was like coming home. The snow, as ever present as always, was powdery and white, though near the chimney is was tinted slightly charcoal black. The windows emitted a pale yellow glow, and inside Freya could hear the low-key chatter of the late afternoon crowd.

Freya paused in front of the heavy doors, hesitant. In the nine years since she had graduated from Hogwarts, she had only returned home a handful of times- once for her sister's funeral, another for her mother's, three times for Christmas, and, most recently, for her father's funeral. And now, it was time for her to take over.

Her heart contracted at the side of the worn wooden doors, reminding her of all the times she had passed through these very doors, all the memories, good and bad, that resided inside. Her childhood.

It was not an easy decision, coming back. Freya didn't like to deal with bad memories; in fact, for the longest time, she would always run away from them. For her, returning was facing those memories, accepting the pain that came with them. But in nine years of running, Freya had never escaped the dreams and nightmares that had followed her, the horrible truth and the terrible guilt.

Swallowing hard, Freya opened the door.

"Freya, dear!"

Freya's slightly mournful face morphed into a large smile as a broad-shoulder man swept his arms around her. She grinned into his burly chest and squeezed him back.

"Cedric!" she exclaimed, pulling away from the fine fabric that adorned the man. She smiled up into the smiling crystal blue eyes of her cousin. "What are you doing here?"  
Cedric beamed down at her, his eyes twinkling fondly. "To help you out, of course! I can't expect you to do this all on your own."

Freya felt her heart swell at her cousin's words. Part of her worries had been about managing the place on her own- the Three Broomsticks was a famous, popular place. On Hogwarts Weekends and during the summer, she knew from experience, the place could get very busy and stressful. "Thank you."

Cedric laughed and rubbed the top of Freya's head, as if she were a child and not an almost thirty year old woman. The faint laugh lines around his mouth and eyes crinkled with his mirth, and Freya couldn't bring herself to admonish the man.

"Well..." she said, clapping her hands together. "Let's get to work!"

* * *

By the time business had slowed to a trickle, her hair had frizzed and she felt dead on her feet. Beside her, Cedric looked as excitable as always.

"How are you not exhausted?" she asked him, lowering herself into an empty chair.

"Howitzer men have great energy," he said, eyes glittering. His muscles rippled slightly beneath the rich scarlet robes he was wearing. "it runs in the family."

Freya chuckled, shaking her head. "What about Howitzer women?" she asked, casting her mind back to Cedric's oldest sister, Olivia. "As I remember, she has great strength and energy as well."

Cedric gave a tiny shudder. "That is true." he said, pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey. "Olivia does not miss a chance to remind me that despite being younger and a witch, she can take me in a fight and that she-"

"Will inherit the family fortune." Freya finished, shaking her head. The Howerwitz family was a rich but fairly new family, and the Olivia-Cedric conflict was famous in gossip circles. Freya found it both disturbing and hilarious about how much and yet how little the wizards- well, rather, witches- of the area knew about the family squabble.

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Ah," he said, draining the glass of firewhiskey. "at least there is little Emily. Calm, sweet-"

"And still massively strong." Freya interrupted. "Though I'm half-convinced she uses magic."

Cedric shrugged. "It's a possibility. Though how she does it..." he trailed off.

Freya laughed just as the door swung open. A blustery wind flew inside and sent Freya's hair all over her face. "Gah!"

Once she had managed to paw all of the hair out of her face, she looked up to see astonishing hunter yellow eyes.

"Hello." said the woman, pulling off her mittens. Her nose was faintly pink from the cold. "Are you Miss Rosmerta?"

Freya opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her eyes were locked on the newcomer's eyes.

"Freya..." Cedric said, nudging his cousin's shoulder. Freya blinked.

"Oh...sorry." she said, her cheeks reddening. "I mean, yes." She noticed Cedric giving her a sideways look from where he leaned against the bar counter.

"Is it alright if I rent a room?" the woman asked, brushing her oddly short ash blonde hair out of those mesmerizing eyes.

Freya immediately nodded, rising quickly to her feet. "Of course!" she exclaimed, quickly making her way towards the inn side of the building. She accioed a key and hurried back over to the waiting woman. "Here you are. How long will you being staying with us?"  
"A week." she replied, her shoulders straightening. "I'm hoping to get a place at Hogwarts."  
Freya's eyes widened. "As a teacher?"

The woman shrugged. "Of a sort. I'd like to teach flying- the new class they are planning?" Those yellow eyes lit up in excitement. "I've been working as a trainer for a while, but this is what I have always dreamed of. Teaching kids to fly, I mean."

Freya gave the woman a warm smile. "That's an admirable dream. What's your name?"

"Rolanda." said the woman. "Rolanda Hooch."


End file.
